


Louder than Words

by Sam_Winchester



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angel Wings, Angels, Gabriel likes Sam, Hurt Dean Winchester, Jealous Dean, M/M, Mute Sam, Protective Dean, Rabies, this is probably crap
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-09
Updated: 2017-06-06
Packaged: 2018-09-15 21:48:39
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Underage
Chapters: 10
Words: 17,952
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9258584
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sam_Winchester/pseuds/Sam_Winchester
Summary: The nightmares had always haunted Sam, nightmares of the fire, and his reality entering his unconscious. Dean had no idea how he could even remember the fire, it had been years ago, caused by a drunken John smashing a beer next to the fire place. That night Dean had seen his mother burn, watched all traces of the John he knew disappear, and lost any hope of ever hearing his little brothers first words.





	1. Gently Now

**Author's Note:**

  * For [My Reason](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=My+Reason).



> Hey! This is my first fanfiction, I hope you guys like it!
> 
>  
> 
> “That’s where we are right now, searching for heaven and finding hell.”

He couldn’t breath, smoke filled his small lungs as he clawed for air, but none came, screams echoed in his ears, he was grabbed roughly as he wailed. The water filling his eyes made it impossible for him to see clearly, he felt himself being shoved into smaller hands, more shouting followed but he could not understand any of it, all he knew was the heat licking away at his body and the burning of his throat. His cries were drowned out by the crackling of flame and the sound of his newly found life crashing down around him and the voice that had captured him since birth.

Sam shot up in his bed, his mouth open in a scream no one could hear, he gasped, drawing in great gulps of air, he thrashed against the weight holding him in place, “Sammy, Sammy it’s okay, I got you, you gotta breath, you’re right here it’s okay.” 

Sam reached desperately for the voice, choking through the tears streaming down his face, panicked eyes flying about the room, searching for the flames that were not there. Dean pulled Sam into him, wrapping his arms around the smaller boy, controlling his flailing limbs. 

Sam felt Dean’s hand carding through his hair, he was still trembling but Dean’s voice in his ear stilled him. His breathing was ragged as he clutched at Dean’s arms, plastering himself as close as he could. Sam’s fingernails were implanted in Dean’s skin but he didn’t seem to mind, he continued to run his fingers through Sam’s hair and was murmuring reassurances into the boy's ear. 

Dean slowly pulled them back onto the bed. Sam buried his face in Dean’s chest and curled himself up tightly. His heartbeat slowed to a steady rhythm as the smell of Dean cascaded through him. Dean’s hand was rubbing small circles on Sam’s back, his shaking subsided as he began to slip into sleep. Dean watched his little brother drift out of consciousness, curled into a ball, one hand still twisted into Dean’s shirt. 

The nightmares had always haunted Sam, nightmares of the fire, and his reality entering his unconscious, Dean had no idea how he could even remember the fire, it had been years ago, caused by a drunken John smashing a beer next to the fire place, that night Dean had seen his mother burn, watched all traces of the John he knew disappear, and lost any hope of ever hearing his little brothers first words.

Dean pressed his nose into the dark brown locks atop his brothers head, Sam shuffled slightly, pressing even closer to him, Dean did not know how many nights, how many years he had prayed, asked anyone and everyone to make people see his baby brother the way he did. 

Every day that Dean found him with tears in his eyes, bruises littering his face Dean just wanted to kill whoever had hurt him, but Sam would never tell him. Dean raged in his head anytime his father called Sam stupid, teachers treated him like a little kid, and the other kids in his class avoided him. But he never showed Sam how much it hurt to never be able to have a verbal conversation with him. 

Since the fire that had wrecked his vocal cords all Sam could make was sounds, little whimpers or gurgles was all he could do. The one thing he made sure Sam did know is that he was perfect, in every way, and anyone who said otherwise would have him to answer to. Dean wrapped his arms around the smaller boy, Sam was his, now and forever, and no one is allowed to hurt what’s his.

 

\---

 

Dean woke with a start, his head immediately hitting the headboard, he groaned and sunk back down, rubbing annoyed circles onto the bump. The space beside him was empty and cold, he sat up again, carefully this time, and looked around, “Sammy?” His brain was still fogged with sleep but his eyes narrowed, searching for his brother. He let out the breath he had been holding as a mop of brown hair poked out from behind the bedroom door, Sam had always been the morning person of the two but the grin plastered on his face was just too much, he looked at the bedside clock, 5:58. 

Sam nudged the door open with his hip, in his arms was a whole pie, Dean felt his stomach rumble at the sight, his still bleary mind could not fathom why Sam had pie, but he was beginning to sense that it also had something to do with the already used candle sticking out of the pie. Sam had never liked cars as much as Dean but the second he could be trusted with a knife he would be in the kitchen. 

Mostly for Dean this meant cleaning absurd amounts of butter and flour but he didn’t mind. Sam sat down on the bed at Dean’s feet and smiled at him, Dean grinned back at the smaller boy, he, of course, hadn’t even thought of his birthday, the only one he cared about was Sam’s, but he should have known his brother wouldn’t forget. 

Dean leaned forward and hugged Sam, careful not to squash the masterpiece of food in between them. At least this hotel had a tiny but fully functional stove. “Thank you Sammy.” He whispered. As they drew apart Sam took the plastic knife beside him and sliced up the pie, it was apple, oh god this kid was going to kill Dean. 

Sam’s smile widened as he saw his brother practically started drooling, he had gotten up at 4:00 to make sure he would have enough time to bake it right. He handed Dean the first, and biggest, slice. Dean was ashamed, not really though, of how quickly he inhaled the slice Sam gave him, he had no idea pie could taste this good, really any pie was wonderful but this, his brother was an artist. After many more slices of pie between the two of them Dean finally leaned back, feeling like he was going to explode. 

“Jesus Sam, at this rate I’m going to have a heart attack when I turn Twenty.” Sam just laughed in his own way, puffing out air hard through his mouth, Dean smiled contently, he was warm and maybe a little too full. A tapping on his shoulder stopped him from falling asleep. He sat up again, in Sam’s hand was a tiny bundle, wrapped in newspapers taped together, “you didn’t have to do that, that pie is the best thing I’ve ever tasted.” 

Sam pushed the package into Dean’s hand anyway, Dean took it, unwrapping the parcel, careful not to tear the paper, he lifted up the small object within, turning it over in his hand. The light caught on the golden metal as he turned it, Dean looked down at in in awe, the small pendant hung from a black cord, the metal itself was carved beautifully, Dean looked up at Sam, not really knowing what to say, “Thank you Sam, I-I love it.” 

He raised it above his head and dropped it on his shoulders, the pedant hung right next to his heart, he saw Sam smile and nod, looking relieved, Sam should know by now that anything he does will be everything to Dean. Words had never really been needed between the two, Sam was incapable of using them and for Dean, well, no words could describe the feelings he has for his brother. Instead they would just smile at each other, light touches and wacky facial expressions were all they really needed. 

Dean would still talk to him, tell him stories, whisper reassurances when Sam woke sweating from a dream, he would even sing him Hey Jude like his mom used to, but at times like this, words were unnecessary. Dean cleaned up the remaining pie and tried to get as many crumbs off the bed as possible he was sure that there would be pieces of pie crust annoying him tonight though. 

Dean had a kind of running game with himself, he would always try and see how loud he could gargle, well, pretty much anything. It annoyed the hell out of Sam and Dean had given up trying the game after one day all of his underwear had mysteriously ended up in the toilet. 

Today was his special day though, how could he not! The both of them were in the bathroom brushing their teeth when he decided to try and break his record. He could literally feel Sam’s eyes boring into the back of his head and choked on the water when he saw Sam’s all powerful bitch face, he coughed, trying to hold in his laughter, Sam broke and snorted a little too, so Dean figured his underwear were safe.

 

\---

 

The happiness from the morning disappeared when Dean looked into the safe the hotel they were staying in. Dean had punched in the passcode, 1983, Sam’s birthday, and opened the door, he drew out the worn leather wallet and looked inside. 

One dollar. One fucking dollar, he pulled apart the wallet looking for more, John had checked them in to this hotel two days ago, he had said he had enough money in the safe to last them a week if the business trip to longer than expected. He had left the moment they had opened the room. Well obviously he hadn’t looked in the damn wallet. 

John had, however, paid for a week in the hotel so at least him and Sammy weren’t exactly homeless. “Son of a bitch!” Dean yelled, throwing the wallet across the room, he sat down hard on the closest bed, hands fisting in his hair. 

Sam heard the shout from outside, he had just gone on a walk, with many puppy dog stares and nodded promises to stay close he had convinced Dean to let him go out alone, if only to the street corner, Sam shot inside, eyes immediately locking on Dean, he shut the door cautiously behind him upon seeing that he was okay, for the most part. Dean looked up at the sound of the door opening, he had to keep this from Sam, he had enough to deal with, he plastered a stiff smile on his face, “Just stubbed my toe is all, I’m fine.” 

He said in response to Sam’s questioning stare. He could tell that the twelve year old didn’t believe him but he had to try. It was his job to keep Sam safe, lord knows his father never had, even Dean did a shitty job, Dean’s fists clenched at the memory of their stay in New Jersey. He shook his head, fighting to keep that memory at bay, Sam pointed to the bathroom and tapped twice on the back of his wrist. 

Twenty minutes, he was going to take a shower, Dean nodded, that would give him the time he needed, “Okay. Hey, I’m, uh, I’m gonna go grab us some food, be back in a bit, stay here.” Sam nodded and moved to the bathroom, as soon as Dean heard the water running he bolted out the door.

 

\---

 

Dean walked out of the quick stop, relieved, he had managed to get bread and peanut butter for Sam. It wasn’t much but it would hold him over for a couple of days. Dean had gone for over a week without food before, when it came down to it he was no stranger to hunger. 

Dean began to hum a Zepplin tune as he made his way back to Sam. His eyes were fixed on the sidewalk as he strode down the street, out of the corner of his eye he saw the flashing lights, “Shit!” He broke into a run as the door opened. He was tackled to the ground, the feeling of the guy on top of him sent his brain into a frenzy, he lashed out and felt his knuckles connect to the guys face, the cop staggered back then threw his fist into his gut. His arms were forced behind his back and cuffed.

 

\---

 

Sam

He was pacing furiously in the tiny hotel room, it had been over two hours since Dean had left, he was never gone for longer than a half hour without giving Sam a heads up. 

He hadn’t called once. He had started to worry at the hour mark, but remembering Dean’s order to stay put he had pushed his worry to the back of his head. To distract himself he had pulled out his toy plane from under his bed, he always hid it, he was ashamed to still play with it. 

Dean had stolen it for him when he was eight, it was the only form of a normal childhood he had. Now however, it was disregarded on the bed. He couldn’t stop the images of Dean hurt and alone from trapping his mind. Finally it was too much, he grabbed the hotel key and went out the door, careful to lock it behind him.

 

\---

 

Dean

“Steven Hewlett caught him red-handed stealing up at his store.” Dean’s jaw ticked as he looked at the floor. “So what’d he take?” The guy, Sonny, was looking at him, Dean ignored him. “Get this – peanut butter and bread.” 

The man raised his eyebrows at the cops words, “He got any family?” Dean stiffened, Sam hated the idea of him stealing, he was the purest one of the two and his morals always told him to do the right thing. Dean’s were far more loose when it came to Sammy. “We contacted his old man,” 

Dean’s head jerked, maybe he could get out of all this. “Once he found out what happened he said to let him rot in jail.” By now Dean couldn’t be suprised, his father had never came through to him, the only good thing he had ever done was give him Sam, and even that wasn’t by John’s choice. He lowered his head again, shaking it slightly. All he could hope for now is for John to remember Sam and come back for him. “We thought he could stay here, too young for jail and can’t be left at county.”

 

“I don’t see why not, man.”

 

“Thanks Sonny.” Dean groaned inwardly, he was stuck at some dump of a boys home and Sam was probably wondering where the hell he was. A twinge of a smile came to Dean as he saw the already blackening eye he had given to the cop though. As the cop walked out Sonny undid his handcuffs he glanced at the evident bruises crossing Dean’s arms. “Cop do that to you?” 

Dean shook his head and laughed, that slow prick was barely able to get the cuffs on him. “Your old man then?” Dean’s lips tightened. The marks hadn’t faded as quickly as he wanted, he had been able to convince Sam it was the werewolf they had hunted last week but if they didn’t fade quick he wouldn’t be able to keep that up. 

He grimaced, he had made the mistake of going outside of the hotel room, leaving Sam sleeping alone in Fort Douglas. He had made sure everything was locked but when he came back the thing they were hunting had gotten inside, the shtriga had already put three boys into comas, it was looming over his brother, Dean had been frozen, that was when John had kicked in the door and shot the fucker, the terrified look on Sam’s face had pained him more than any punishment his father had dealt him yet. 

Once he had calmed Sam into sleep again John dragged him into the other room and knocked him around. The marks on his arms were the least of it. Dean snapped out of the memory as the chains fell off him. He rubbed his wrists where the metal had made his skin raw. He had to get out of there, get back to Sammy and try to explain himself to John.

 

\---

 

Sam

He had walked around for hours, trying to figure out where Dean might have gone, why he hadn’t come back. He had left a note in the room telling Dean where he was and not to worry just in case he came back. He had left at about five in the afternoon, it looked to be about eight now, the streets were dark and some of the store lights were off already. His legs ached and temple throbbed, he leaned against an alley wall.

Tears overwhelmed him, he was frustrated and worried and wanted to just curl up and sleep. He slid down the wall and sat, he knew he should get back to the hotel, Dean would be furious if he knew that Sam was alone on the streets at night without protection. Wearily he got to his feet, eyes closed. Sam jerked as someone spoke, “You really shouldn’t be out here alone you know.” 

Sam’s eyes snapped open, the man in front of him was big, his dark eyes steely. He stepped closer to Sam, eyeing him. Years of drills and trainings kicked in and Sam crouched, blocking out the sound of his pounding heart. “The names Victor Henriksen, you are?” 

Sam didn’t move, instead cast his eyes about wildly, looking for escape. He tensed and whimpered as the man’s fist drove into the wall next to his head. He leaned in closer, “I asked you a question.” Sam pressed himself further into the brick, the man grinned and took a step closer, he grabbed Sam’s hair and yanked his head back, he leaned in and Sam shuddered as Henrikson smelled him, fucking smelled him. “Lucky you’re not a fighter.” 

He laughed. Sam was forced around and pressed against the wall, rough hands tore at his shirt, Sam thrashed in the man’s grip, crying desperately. When the man grabbed his hips Sam’s brain shot into overdrive, he kicked out and felt his shoe connect to Henrickson’s shin. 

He spun around and brought his knee up into the other’s groin, sending him stumbling backwards. He broke out into a run as the man recovered and came for him. He ran as fast and as hard as he could, not really knowing where he was going. Tears stung his eyes and blinded him as he ran, up ahead he could see a large building, the police station. Lungs burning he made it the last hundred feet and burst inside.


	2. Enough

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is kind of a filler, sorry about that, I promise more stuff will happen soon.

Dean  
He was sitting up in his bed, to on edge to sleep, he didn’t fully trust this Sonny guy and hated being in a room with kids he didn’t know. The small digital clock on one of the bedside tables read 8:47, he shifted into a more comfortable position since he was most likely going to be up all night, he figured he should make it easier, the unmistakable sound of a car pulling into the driveway pulled him from his bed and to the window. In the dim light from the moon he could make out a cop car, a figure got out of the front and opened the back door. There was no mistaking the slope of the shoulders and the shuffling walk his kid had. Dean shot across the room and flung open the door with a crash. The waves of fear coursing through him made him stumble down the stairs. 

Sonny’s voice followed him, “Dean?” He made no response as he hit the floor and ran out into the night. The cop was still holding onto his brother and Dean rushed towards them. The scared look and slight tremors running through his baby brother’s body was enough to make Dean shove the guy away from Sam and grab the younger boy. He wrapped Sam in his arms and immediately searched him wounds. “Sammy, what happened? It’s alright. It’s alright.” He saw Sam’s torn shirt and raised his eyes to the cop. “What the fuck happened?” 

He heard Sonny’s footsteps behind him but paid him no head. Instead he fixed his glare on the man standing a few feet from him. “He, uh, he ran into the station, he didn’t want to talk but he wrote that he was out looking for his big brother and a guy attacked him.” Dean tightened his grip on Sam as he let out a harsh sob. Dean lifted the boy from the grass, the cop stepped forward to help but Dean growled, “Don’t touch him.” His protective instincts were kicking in fast and he was ready to kill anyone that came near his brother. 

He pushed open the door with his foot, Sam’s hands were fisted tightly in his shirt. He set him down on the couch and gently uncurled Sam’s hands from his shirt. He looked around for a pen and paper, he grabbed one from off the coffee table and prodded them into Sam’s hand. “Come on, you gotta tell me what happened, it’s okay Sammy, I got you now.” Dean himself was shuddering, he couldn’t bear to know, but he couldn’t stand not knowing either. He had to know what that bastard had done to his Sammy.

\---

Sam  
He put the tip of the pen to the paper, his hands shook too badly to write, the tremors rocking his body made it impossible. Man up Sam, he told himself. After the third attempt to write Dean covered his hands with his own, steadying them. No one had spoken since entering the house, not daring to break the silence, finally though, the officer named Gabriel said something, “Why can’t he just tell us?” Sam winced. He saw Dean stiffen, his brother turned and snarled at the officer, eyes flashing, “He can’t.” Sam breathed in deep shuddering breath, “That’s it Sammy, do you know anything about the person who did this to you?” Dean said, his voice soft again, Sam nodded slowly and wrote two words. Victor Henriksen. Dean breathed in deep, “Okay, okay Sammy, can you tell me what happened?” 

Sam’s eyes flicked to the officer and the other man standing in the room, it occurred to him that he had no idea who that was. He didn’t think he could tell Dean how defenseless and stupid he had been, nevertheless two strangers. He shook his head, staring down at his hands blankly, his tears had dried and his lips had all but stopped trembling. He shouldn't have let himself get cornered, he should’ve known better. 

He glanced up at Dean, he was shaking his head. “No, no, it’s not your fault Sam, don’t you even think that.” Dean had always been able to know just what Sam was thinking. Sam covered his eyes with his hands. Nothing even fucking happened. He looked up just as the cop stepped forward and touched his shoulder, he wrenched away from the hand, his head feeling all too vividly to the feeling of the big man grabbing him. Reaching out blindly for his protector, his breath speeding up.

 

Dean  
The second he saw Sam reaching for him, eyes pleading, he reared up, sweeping the boy behind him, “Get out!” He yelled. He heard the cop stammering as Sonny hustled him out of the room, he turned back to his baby brother, kneeling down to his level. He placed his hand on Sam’s neck, resting his forehead against the others, “Hey, Sammy, you don’t need to tell me okay, you don’t, but if you ever do you can, but I won’t know because Henrikson,” He spat out the word like a curse, “Won’t live long enough to say shit. I promise.” Sam’s eyes were trained on his, the younger boy exhaled shakily, Dean took him by the hand, coaxing him to his feet.

As he stood he looked around the room, Sammy couldn’t stay here, not with all the people. Sonny was standing in the doorway, leaning against the frame, Dean cleared his throat, “Uh, can you drive us back to our motel?” He hated asking for things, especially from strangers, but his kid’s eyelids were barely staying open, they couldn’t walk back. Sonny nodded, he took keys from the table and went out into the night.

\---

Dean lay awake in the small bed, the moment Sam’s head hit the covers he had been out but sleep had not come as easily to him. All he could think of was what could have happened, and the fact that their own father hadn’t been there. He hadn’t even bothered to call and make sure that Sam was okay. John had let him down so many times, birthdays, Christmas, he had missed all of them, it seemed that even when something like this happened he still couldn’t bear to be in the same room with his sons. Sam shifted in his sleep, resting his hand in the center of Dean’s chest, his eyes fluttered, breathing deep. Dean shut his eyes, feeling his heart beat into the palm of his baby brother. He was asleep before he knew it.


	3. Time and Time Again

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean and John fight

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello loves, sorry this chapter is so short, I hope you like it, these kids are so cute.

Sam  
His dreams had been fretful, no matter how much he cursed himself or told himself to man up he couldn’t shake how helpless he had been, how easily he had been overcome. He felt sick thinking about it. He shifted towards the edge of the bed, swinging his feet over the side, he stopped as Dean moved, not wanted to wake the older boy. Sam had woken several times during the night, only the feeling of Dean’s arms wrapped around him and his heart beating into Sam’s hand had coaxed him back into sleep. 

He stood slowly, walking into the small bathroom, his eyes were still red from crying, he could hardly recognize his pale face in the mirror. He turned on the faucet, splashing his face with cold water, he had barely woken up but he was still exhausted. He walked back out of the bathroom just as Dean stood and smiled at him sleepily. Dean walked past him into the bathroom, ruffling Sam’s hair as he went. 

Dean had always had a fascination with Sam’s hair, all those nights on the road Dean had sat in the back with him, carding his fingers through Sam’s hair as the young boy fell asleep. The shower started in the other room and Sam sat on the bed, taking out a small book from under the bed, he began to read The Forever War, sinking into the book he lost track of time.

\---

The all too familiar sound of the Impala’s engine brought him to his feet, he pulled aside the curtain as the sleek black car pulled into the small motel parking lot. Sam stayed at the window as the door opened and his father rose from his seat, pulling a duffel bag from the car with him. John walked slowly to the hotel entrance below. Sam sat down heavily on the bed, listening to his shallow breathing and the water running in the shower. What seemed like an hour later he heard the key sliding into the lock and the door handle turning. He stood quickly as the door opened. John stepped inside and halted, clearing his throat he said, “Hey Sam,” he stood there awkwardly. 

Sam hadn’t even noticed that the water had shut off when Dean walked into the room, rubbing his hair with a towel, still not managing to stop water dripping onto his shirt. He stopped cold when he saw John, Sam could feel the tension in the room before either spoke. Dean walked the last few steps to Sam, he stood so close their shoulders touched. “You’re back.” 

His voice was stiff, Sam knew that he was furious about John not being there when Dean was arrested or coming back when the cops had called John about Sam. “Sammy, could you go grab me something from the vending machine?” Sam nodded at the lame excuse to get him out of the room, he moved past his father, flinching slightly when John patted him on the shoulder.

 

Dean  
He caught the little jump Sam gave when their father touched him, it did nothing to better his mood. “So, did you kill the vamp or did you realize that your son got arrested and maybe you should be there, or maybe that your youngest was attacked in an alley and you might want to make sure that he’s okay?” John tensed, for a split second he thought he saw something like guilt on his face, he relished it. John stepped forward threateningly, “It was a job, Dean, that’s what we do, we don’t get to sit around talking about our feelings.” 

“Really? I got arrested. Sam almost got-” He swallowed, feeling sick, “You’re supposed to be our damn father! You’ve never been there for him, I always have!” Pain flared in his cheek and he staggered back, John’s fists were curled at his sides. Dean regained his footing as he sneered at his father.

\---

 

Sam  
The sapphire blue filled his eyes, warmth was seeping through him from the hot unblemished metal below him. The soft breeze touched his cheek as he shut his eyes. He lay there, on the hood of the Impala, surrounded by heat, he didn’t know how much time had passed but when his eyes fluttered open he was met with Dean’s deep green eyes looking at him with an expression so soft it made him melt. Sam’s eyes went next to the already bruising circle on his brother’s cheek. Sam swung his legs off the car, he wrapped his arms around Dean’s neck, pulling him in. 

Dean’s arms laced around his waist. Sam’s fingers curled as he felt Dean’s lips ghost against his neck, he gasped quietly, Dean drew back, staring into Sam’s eyes, Sam felt his lips break into a smile. He tore his eyes from Dean’s when he heard a shrill noise from below them, Dean let out a laugh, bending down to look at the orange cat. Sam let out as close to a laugh as he could when the cat swatted at Dean and his brother jumped back like a wendigo had bit him. 

The older boy took another step back, glaring at the animal who then hissed and ran away, looking drunk. Dean looked down at his hand where the cat had scratched him, the offended expression on his face was priceless. Sam nudged him with his elbow, mocking his face. “Bitch.” Dean said, humor sparkling in his eyes. Sam tapped twice on the first finger of his left hand, Jerk. 

 

Dean  
A quiet ringing drew his attention, the burner phone in his pocket vibrated like mad. He pulled it from his pants, flipping it open he raised it to his ear, “Dean ?” Said a deep voice on the other end, “Yeah, Bobby, hey, did you find anything?” Sam looked at him curiously. “I ran the name and got something, he’s been staying at a motel for a while, I sent you the address. Kick his ass for me kid.” Dean’s heart jumped.

“Will do Bobby, thanks.”

“No problem, let me know if there’s anything else I can do.”

“I will.” He shut the phone looking at Sam, “We’ve got somewhere to be Sammy.” Sam tilted his head but Dean offered no explanation, instead he opened the car door and swung inside, pulling the keys from his pocket and starting the car. 

Sam followed, buckling his seat-belt, Dean could feel the questioning stare but a darkness was washing over him, making it hard for him to talk. He drove in silence, his hands gripping the steering wheel hard, turning his knuckles white. By the time he had pulled into the dingy motel Bobby’s address had sent him to, Sam had to have guessed why they were there, “Stay here Sammy, I’ll be back soon.” Sam’s hand stopped him as he began to get out, his finger traced a heart on Dean’s palm, “I love you too.” 

 

Sam   
The words still hanging in the air, Sam watched as Dean strode across the parking lot, Sam flinched as Dean’s fist pounded on door six, Sam saw it open, saw Dean say something before he grabbed the figure inside the room, throwing him inside and slamming the door behind them.


	4. What It Is

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Her bright face seemed to coax another smile from him. His heart was beating rapidly in his chest, it was alarming him somewhat, his heart had beat that hard only for one other person. And that was different. Wasn’t it?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry for the wait, and I kind of cheated a little in this chapter, sorry, anyway, I hope you enjoy!

Dean

“You Victor Henriksen?” The man who opened the door nodded, that was the only confirmation he needed. Dean felt his mouth twist into a predatory smile, he threw his hand out, grabbing the man by the shirt and hurling him into the room. Henrikson regained his footing almost immediately, crouching down he ran at Dean, pinning him to the wall, “Who the fuck are you?!” Henrikson yelled in his face. Dean snarled, lashing out and driving his fist into the man’s face. “I’m Sam Winchester’s brother dickhead!” 

He shoved the guy off of him, throwing his shoulder into his stomach, sending him tumbling to the floor. Dean felt rage boiling up in him, since he had seen Sam in tears all he could imagine is what that fucker did to his kid. Henrikson lay on the floor groaning, “ Who the fuck do you think you are doing that to him?! He’s a goddamn kid!” As the man rose shakily to his feet Dean lunged at him, the man sidestepped, grabbing him and throwing him to the ground. 

Dean coughed and felt blood come from his lips as Henriksen's boot connected with his ribs, he curled around himself as blows peppered his body. He pushed himself to his knees, attempting to get up, a foot hit his jaw, sending him spinning across the room. A gasp drew his attention, his brain went into overdrive as he saw his baby brother standing in the door. Henriksen sneered at Sam, taking a step towards him, “Well, you again, you ran off during our little talk, that really hurt my feelings... Sammy.” 

The man lunged at Sam, hitting him across the face and sending him flying into the coffee table. Dean was up and on Henriken before he could process what was happening, he threw his fists into him until he was down. He turned to his Sammy, the boy was on the floor, seemingly unharmed. Dean crouched down, pulling the boy to his feet and pressing him to his side. Sam looked at Dean with wide frightful eyes. 

It was just then that Dean realized he was covered in blood, not sure if it was his or Henriksen’s. Dean suddenly felt weak, he fell into a chair, rubbing his eyes. He pulled his phone from his pocket, dialing 911, “I’m at the Sunrise Motel room 6.” He shut the phone, leaning on Sam for support he stood and walked out to the car, not wanting to be there when the cops arrived.

 

\---

 

Two Years, Four Months Later

 

Sam

His everlasting love for the stars found them on the hood of the Impala, Dean’s arm wrapped loosely around his shoulders. Both brothers were still and quiet, the blanket of calm and darkness shrouded them from all eyes. Sam’s breath was deep, his gaze moving slowly from one constellation from the next, lost in the light warm breeze caressing his cheek. 

Ruffling his hair ever so lightly. His head was nestled in his big brother’s neck, their hearts beat simultaneously, the song that would never end. Dean had never liked sleeping in soft beds since that day, two years ago, his ribs hadn’t fully healed right from the multiple fractions and something about beds set it off. 

Sam remembered when he first learned about the stars, heat swelled in his chest at the memory of Dean’s astonished face when he had read Sam’s essay on the story behind the night they had grown to love. Sam closed his eyes, enveloped in the smell of burning wood and spices that Dean always seemed to possess. 

 

\---

 

Sam woke with a terrible crick in his neck, the sun already shining down strong on his face, ever since he had been little and sleeping in Dean’s arms, whenever the older boy had woken he had opened his eyes as well. It was something that seemed to be programmed into the both of them, when one woke the other was not far behind. That trait had not ceased and Dean opened his eyes blearily mere seconds later, smiling sleepily at Sam. 

It was that smile that made Sam feel as though he could just melt. He stretched his sore limbs, sliding himself off of the car, causing Dean to grumble. Slowly the man followed him, getting into his Baby and turning the key, it was dumb of them to stop, they had to be in DC today and were still four or five hours out, Sam admitted sheepishly to himself that he hadn’t really left Dean much choice. He knew the effect his puppy dog stare had on his brother. Sam had, however, promised to let Dean stop off at a bar on the way, worth it. 

Gazing up at the stars with the person he loved most in the world was worth watching Dean get hit on for a while. Maybe. Even the thought made Sam scowl that surprised him, he had no right whatsoever to be jealous. He waved it off, telling himself that it was probably just that he himself had never been hit on before. He was pulled from the disturbing thoughts by the NEVER ENDING songs of ACDC being turned up to what sounded like fifty. 

Sam covered his ears with his hands, glaring at Dean fiercely, trying to gesture to him to turn it down. “Sorry Sammy! I got to focus on the road, but you like this song right?!” He shouted over the music, laughing hard the sight of the bitchface that Sam knew to be on his face.

 

Dean

His grin stretched his lips, and he began to sing along to Back In Black, pointedly ignoring the glares from his baby brother. Feeling the wind tear through him from the open windows, ripping away any tiredness left over, leaving him feeling almost giddy, Sam rolled his eyes next to him, leaning back in his seat. Dean reluctantly turned down the music, letting his boy fall back into sleep. He drove steadily, not paying attention to the time passing, with Sam asleep the air was lacking that electricity that always seemed to be present between them. Dean thought nothing of it. 

However before he knew it he was pulling into The Roadhouse, the bar he had chosen to go to. It was smallish without being a shack and he knew that some hunters often frequented it, so he may be able to get some information on the hunt they had been sent on by John, while taking their money in pool. Dean reached over, shaking Sammy lightly, “Come on sleeping beauty, we’re here.” Dean kicked himself mentally, Sleeping Beauty? Really? The boy started to wake, blinking his eyes slowly, Dean turned the key, shutting off the car and stepping outside. 

Sam followed him with the expression that, combined with his ever growing height, made him look almost as old as Dean. He tore his eyes from the boy, feeling something jolt in him, ignoring the feeling he walked across the small parking lot, his brother beside him. Upon opening the door he saw the people around the bar, “You gonna be okay alone for a couple minutes?” 

Seeing Sam nod he smiled softly, leaving the kid to sit a table to read on of the philosophy books Dean had gotten him for his birthday last week. Dean turned back to the bar once more, his eyes instantly falling on a tall brunette girl, swallowing he turned away, heading instead towards a redheaded girl sitting at the bar. 

 

Sam  
Once Dean had left him, he had sat quickly at the farthest table from the bar, not wanting to overhear his brother hitting on some random girl. He had buried himself in his book, losing his mind to the world of philosophers. Minutes or hours later, he couldn’t tell, a girl, maybe his brothers age, came up to him. “Can I get you anything?” Sam looked up, startled. He shook his head, smiling shyly at her. “Is that /Beyond Good and Evil/?” 

Sam nodded, surprised, he had never met anyone with his same interest for the subject. Her southern accent seemed out of place so close to Washington DC but otherwise he couldn’t tell that she wasn’t from the area. She sat down, “I’m Jo, by the way.” Her bright face seemed to coax another smile from him. His heart was beating rapidly in his chest, it was alarming him somewhat, his heart had beat that hard only for one other person. And that was different. Wasn’t it?


	5. Knight in Shining Feathers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam and Dean have a falling out, as it turns out, someone else is there to catch Sam when he falls.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry for the wait on the update, my procrastinating ass has been, well, procrastinating. Hope you guys enjoy this chapter and don't totally hate me by the end.

Dean  
His attention was pulled away from the girl’s hand on his leg by a bubbling laugh coming from the far corner. His attention was shattered however when he saw that the sound had come from a girl sitting far too close to his brother. Dean felt a scowl cross his face as he brushed the redhead off of him, standing up and walking over to Sam. Shoving down the anger he knew he had no cause for, he rested his hand gently on Sam’s shoulder, without even a glance at Dean, the fifteen year old leaned into his touch. 

Dean felt… proud, at the trust and comfort Sam put in him, the girl however was staring at him, obviously confused at their closeness. “Sorry hon, but I’m gonna have to steal Sammy here from you.” Sam did look at him then, a question in his eyes. “Um… Okay. See you, Sam.” Said the blonde, Dean didn’t miss the subtle wink she shot at Sam. His hand tightened, he pulled Sam to his feet, grabbing his book for him. Dean lead him to the bar, sitting him down on one of the red leather stools, gesturing to the bartender he ordered two whiskeys. Looking at Sam he grinned and whispered, “You know Sammy, these fake IDs really do come in handy.” Dean handed the kid one of the glasses, “You haven’t had your first drink yet, and I am not letting it be some girly crap. Drink up baby brother.” 

Sam  
His heart jumped at the pet name and heat rose to his cheeks, looking at Dean he saw the older boy’s eyes darken for a split second. Sam ignored it, figuring it was a trick of the light, inwardly he was excited. Dean hadn’t let him have even a drop of alcohol until this moment, and Sam knew that if he EVER tried smoking Dean would freak the fuck out. Reaching forward he picked up the glass, taking a long sip and choking immediately. The liquid burned down his throat, bringing tears to his eyes, Dean snorted beside him, “Take it easy there tiger.” Sam regained his breath and grinned as the warmth began to seep through him, he took another sip, more careful this time, swallowing slowly. After a minute his brain felt kind of fuzzy.

Dean  
One drink. That was all it took for Sam to be clearly not quite sober. Dean’s eyes fixed on his throat as the boy took another sip, causing his adam's apple to move. Dean tore his eyes away, downing the rest of his drink, “Come on sasquatch, let’s go.” He threw some money on the counter for the drinks, Sam leaned on him, giggling his ass off. Dean rolled his eyes, this had probably not been such a good idea, especially because the kid was clearly a happy drunk. Dean opened his door for him, holding Sam’s head to keep hi from hitting it. Dean went around to his side, getting in. 

There was no way that they could go into DC today, that hadn’t been the best move on Dean’s part but he knew Sam had always wanted to try a real drink, and since he was fifteen, Dean figured he should, he himself had had his first drink before he had hit double digits. Lightweight had gotten tipsy from just one drink. In the car Sam was quite, smiling to himself, Dean found himself grinning too, for the first time Sam didn’t complain about his music. Once at the motel Dean signed them in and lead Sam into their small dingy room, the boy was almost as tall as Dean, he would rue the day the kid surpassed him. Sam was still giggling and Dean at this point was wondering how the hell they were related, he could hold his liquor like a pro and yet his boy was drunk from a single drink. 

Dean laid the kid down on the bed, pulling the covers up onto him, as Dean looked away he heard Sam laugh quietly to himself. Dean rolled his eyes, climbing into the bed beside the younger, settling down on his back and slowing his breathing, Sam shifted in his sleep, pressing against Dean, without hesitation he reached out and cautiously wrapped his arms around Sam, pulling him closer. With his arms wrapped around his brother Dean felt himself slowly drift into sleep.

\---

Sam  
The bed felt off, weird… empty. Sam’s eyes snapped open, it was not unusual for Dean to wake up before him but he would never get up from bed without first waking Sam. As his sleep blurred brain started to be clear he realized what was playing, he furrowed his eyebrows at the, well, he won’t quite call it music, blasting from the bedside radio. His head was killing him and “Heat of the Moment” hitting him at six O’clock in the morning did not help. Sam sighed, he knew that they had to go into DC today but he was so not ready for it, had he really gotten drunk from one drink? He was fifteen for god’s sake, Dean had been able to hold his liquor at age ten. 

Sam reached over and turned down the music blaring at him, looking up as the front door slammed and a clearly pissed Dean strode through the door. “You’re up.” He said flatly. Confused, Sam looked at his brother who, just hours ago, was holding him like the most precious thing on earth and now looked like he had stepped on a cactus. Dean walked over to the bed and grabbed their bag, not sparing a glance at Sam and walking right back out to the car. What did I do wrong? 

He could feel his face screwing up as his eyes began to burn, Oh grow up Sam, what the fuck? Shaking himself, Sam got out of the bed and grabbed his clothes, slipping into his jeans and pulling his shirt over his head. They had a job to do, there had been three separate occasions of people hospitalized or turning up dead with, well, odd last moments. The latest victim had fed a pigeon rice and had promptly died after the pigeon actually exploded a foot from him, blasting him into several pieces, the one before that hadn’t forwarded a chain letter to five of her friends within the hour and a tsunami struck her house… in the middle of Washington D.C.. 

There were quite a few creatures that enjoyed urban legends but none, in Sam’s knowledge, that took it as far as to create them in real life. John had sent them to check it out while he handled a vamp nest in Milwaukee, this was one of the first cases that John had let Sam go on a hunt with Dean and not stay behind the front lines, he wasn’t going to screw that up by being a crybaby. Shoving down the feeling of self pity he slung on his jacket and walked out to the car. Dean was waiting and tapping his foot, not a second after Sam had shut the door Dean hit the gas, tearing out of the parking lot. After about an hour on the road Sam was starting to get worried, Dean hadn’t looked at him once and the silence that he had pretty much accepted was now deafening him. 

Clearing him throat to get Dean’s attention he turned to the older boy, “Oh don’t give me that look Sam.” Sam snapped his eyes back to the road, flinching at the harsh tone. He stared into nothing, confusion coursing through him. He didn’t think he had done anything wrong, hell, he had barely seen Dean since falling asleep, what could he have done to earn the cold shoulder that went against literally everything the brothers were. Leaning back in the seat Sam closed his eyes, determined not to let any hurt show.

\---

“A trickster? Are you sure?” Sam was sitting on a park bench, listening to Dean talk to Bobby, “Yes, I’m sure you idjit. Do you know of any other creature that bends reality to make a damn ‘gator show up in the gutter?” 

“No, of course not Bobby, thanks.”

“Alright, take care of yourselves boys, tricksters are nasty.”

“Will do.” Dean hung up the phone and stood, Sam had no idea where they were going to get a stake covered in the blood of the things victims but they had to try, people were dropping fast and that was the only way to get rid of the son of a bitch. They had arrived in D.C. two days ago and the interviews with the witnesses had revealed nothing but the sick, twisted humor that this thing had. A girl that had to be no more than twelve had seen her brother die because she had dared him to drink pop rocks and soda, she’s scarred for life because of this and Sam, he couldn’t accept that, he was going to make this trickster pay. Sam stood up and followed Dean to the nearest diner, he and Dean had gone on hunts before, the vamp nest in Iowa, the Djinn in Kentucky, but they hadn’t encountered any so powerful as to bend reality, this, this was new. 

Once inside Dean ordered the Tuesday special for himself and the chef salad for Sam, the icy silence from the past days had only subsided slightly and Sam was beginning to worry, Dean never stayed mad at him, never. Stealing his nerve he reached out to touch Dean’s arm, a question crossing his face, What’s wrong? “Jesus Christ Sam, can I have a damn minute of peace? We have no leads on this trickster and you’re hanging on my goddamn arm. Is this what you want Sam? Every second of my attention, cause you got it, if I’m not taking care of my mute burden of a brother I’m stuck ganking some bitch!” 

Standing up violently he stormed out of the diner, throwing money down for the meal. Sam sat, stunned. After several seconds of silence Sam stood and bolted out of the door, unsure of where he was going, only knowing that he had to get out of there. As he ran his mind thawed and thoughts poured into him. What is wrong with him? No, nothing’s wrong, he’s right, you’re a burden. You can’t talk, you can barely fight and all you do is slow him down. But why did he say those things? He’s never yelled at you like that, something has to be wrong, or maybe he’s just sick of dealing with his pain in the ass little brother. 

A flash of gold was all he saw before he was flung back, his head hitting the pavement, tires screeched, the smell of burning rubber filled his lungs and he coughed. Propping himself up he squinted through blurred vision to see that same flash of gold disappear behind, no, into a man standing in front of him. “It looks like you could use a knight in shining armor.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> See what I meant about hating me?


	6. Forgiven

Sam  
Instinctively, Sam reached up to touch the wetness sliding down his face, the cocky grin on the man in front of him turned to a frown as he bent down. Sam’s dazed brain registered a soft touch on his forehead before the stinging pain disappeared, bewildered, Sam reached up again. This time his hand came away dry. What the hell? Reaching up to take the man’s outstretched hand he stood, brushing off his clothes, “You know, you really shouldn’t run into a crowded road unless you’re looking to kill yourself, if you are, you’re off to a great start.” 

Sam let a smile touch his lips, “You okay? You’re being kinda quiet.” Sam gestured to his mouth and shook his head, “Ah, sorry, well I can certainly talk enough for the both of us.” Sam shook his head, smiling, being knocked away from a speeding car and hitting the ground seemed to have knocked all thoughts of Dean from his head. 

“Uh, do you want help getting back to your house or something?” Sam was going to shake his head when he realized that he had no idea where he was, the diner was fairly far from the motel his brother had picked. He nodded cautiously, ever since Henrickson he had been wary of letting any stranger near him, 

“Alrighty then, do you want me to call anyone to pick you up? Uh, maybe the guy you were with in the diner, I um, saw you two as I was walking by, he your boyfriend?” The sound that emerged from Sam’s mouth was close to a bitter laugh, just, lacking something. He shook his head. “Oh, well, I can give you a lift if that works for you, my name’s Gabriel by the way.”

 

Dean  
He was tapping his foot restlessly, every word in his head screaming at him that he had failed his brother. Dean just couldn’t understand why, why he would ever say those things to his brother, the one person that mattered more to him than anything else in the world. After he had left the diner he had gotten in the Impala and sped from the parking lot. Frustration had been rising in him all week, frustration with the case, with his life and worst of all, with Sam, when his brother had touched him anger had flooded his mind, washing away every voice of reason and caution. 

Now he was alone, driving to who knows where, not even knowing if his brother had made it back to motel safely. Pulling his phone from the glove compartment he quickly dialed Sam’s number, ever since the boy had turned ten Dean had made him carry a cell phone, just in case Dean didn’t make it back, he had to be able to say goodbye. After the third ring the line was answered, “Sam? Fuck I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean-”

“This isn’t Sam.” Startled, Dean looked down at the phone, making sure he had dialed the right number, once sure that he had, he spoke, “Where the hell is my brother?”

“He’s with me, because of you he almost got hit by a fucking car.”

“What? Is he okay?”

“Yes, he’s fine, no thanks to you.” Dean growled, “Put him on the damn phone.” He heard a muffled question before the voice returned, “He doesn’t want to talk to you.”

“What the hell do you know about what he wants?! I don’t even know who you are!”

“The name’s Gabriel, and I think it’s best if you stay away from the motel for a while, Sam doesn’t want you here.” As soon as the call ended Dean hurled his phone, causing the screen to shatter as it hit the windshield. His breathing was hard, jealousy and his overwhelming protective instincts were clouding his judgement as he whirled the car around, this Gabriel was alone with his brother, he had saved his Sammy. 

Dean would always be thankful to this man for saving his baby brother but a part of him, the part that wanted to show everyone that Sam was his, no matter how wrong that was, wanted for him to be the only one who could ever save his brother. Jealous and confused he drove, feeling as though in every second that ticked by he lost his grip on his mind just a little bit more.

\---

Eighteen minutes was all it took for Dean to get back to the motel, five minutes after that and Dean was still in the Impala, battling with himself. The tiny, rarely listened to reasonable part in his brain was telling him to back off, give the kid some space, lord knows Dean had hurt him enough. 

However, the far more persuasive part was screaming at him to storm in there, throw Gabriel out on his ass and make Sam understand that that wasn’t him, that Sam wasn’t a burden, that something had to be wrong. Not surprisingly, that part won. Stealing his nerves he opened the motel room door with his spare key, the words “I’m sorry” already on his lips. The sight that greeted him made the words freeze before hitting the air. 

Ten Minutes Earlier

Sam  
Dean's voice had returned to him, every insult thrown at him by a kid at school, every word from his father telling him that he wasn’t good enough now seemed to be coming from Dean. In his head his brother told him again and again that he was worthless. His stomach churned. Interrupting Gabriel’s steady stream of talk about what his favorite candy was Sam ran to the bathroom, just in time hurl up any food that might have been in him. His throat stung and tears rose to his eyes from the bitter taste of vomit. 

“Jesus,” Gabriel had followed him and placed a tentative hand on his back, rubbing small circles into Sam’s heated flesh, “It’s okay Sammy.” Sam’s retching stopped him from writing on the pad of paper on the counter the words that suddenly popped into his head: Don’t call me Sammy. After a few minutes of being bent over the toilet he rose and flushed, stumbling back into the main room, he felt like shit. 

“Do you want me to go?” Sam looked up at the green eyed man who now had an pitying expression written across his face. Sam shook his head, the last this he wanted right now was to be left alone with his thoughts. Gabriel sat down on the bed next to Sam, “You know, when I first saw you I did think about us in bed together, but this wasn’t quite what I had in mind.” 

Sam smiled and lightly hit him on the arm, something about this man’s jovial personality reminded him of his brother. Sam felt sick and tired and just done with everything. He realized, with a grimace, that when it came to vamps and djinn he could handle himself, but when it came to Dean, he was an emotional train wreck. Gabriel wrapped his arm loosely around Sam, pulling him to lean on his side. Sam complied and inhaled the scent of sweets and something, well, all he could describe it as was light.

Present

Dean  
Sam was leaning on a stranger, that same stranger had his arm around his brother, Dean wasn’t having it. He let out a cutting laugh, “Well Sammy, I came back to apologize to you but I guess you’ve been doing just fine without me.” 

He saw pain flash across his brothers gentle face, twisting him to look like a puppy that had been kicked one too many times. Gabriel stood up, face flashing, “Shut up.” Dean took a step closer, “And you must be Gabriel, so sorry to interrupt your little cuddle session, sure looked like you two were enjoying it.” 

“I’m sorry Dean, but your brother was throwing up because of you, so I’m sorry if I wanted to help him not feel like shit about himself!” Dean cast a worried glance at Sam, who’s eyes were glued to the floor, body shaking slightly. Dean pushed past Gabriel and knelt by Sam, “What’s wrong, why are you shaking? Did he hurt you?” Venom laced his voice as he cast a glance back at Gabriel as the man scoffed. 

Sam shook his head and pulled away from Dean’s touch. “He doesn’t want you here Dean! He doesn’t need you-” Dean lunged. Gabriel hit the wall. As he stood up the light in the room seemed to grow and grow. It was coming from Gabriel. Dean heard a frightened whimper come from behind him and as he looked back a flash of gold hit him in the chest, throwing him to the floor. Dean coughed and reached out to Sam, trying to find him in the blinding light. Something bubbled from his throat.

 

Sam  
Fear overwhelmed Sam’s anger at his brother and he searched for him, the brightness forcing him to close his eyes, he felt his hand connect with Dean’s arm and he clutched at it. It seemed like Dean had forgotten the fight too as he turned to shield Sam from the light, “I’m sorry Sammy.” Dean’s voice rasped and Sam drew closer to him, squeezing his arm in response.

What is going on? How could I not tell that Gabriel is… I don’t even know what he is. Gradually the light dimmed and Sam opened his eyes, his heart pounding, Gabriel was standing on the other side of the room. His eyes glowed and wings extended from his back like a raven that had been dipped in gold. “I shouldn’t have done that.” Just like that the man was gone, Sam gasped. 

His eyes were pulled back down at a choked sound, his heart leapt into his throat, something was wrong, Dean was convulsing on the ground. Sam grabbed him, shaking him desperately, as his big brother lolled onto his back, Sam saw, foam was dripping from Dean’s lips.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hate the author of this, oh, wait, that's me! Fuck.


	7. New Jersey

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is how Dean's obsession with Sam's hair started, Dean is fifteen and Sam is eleven, even then, no one dared fuck with Sammy.

-FOUR YEARS AGO-  
-New Jersey-

Dean  
Sam was bubbling from excitement, Dean was furious, he had no right to be but he was, he had been in science when he overheard a couple of kids mention “That mute kid” he immediately strode over, jaw clenched. He stopped a few paces from them, pretending to be interested in the papers in front of him. “No way, Maddison would never!” A boy with bleach blond hair exclaimed.

“Dude I’m telling you she did!” One of the brunettes replied.

“So, she just went up to him and asked him out?”

“Yup. And he said yes, well, said...” The boys burst out laughing, Dean decided that this was his cue. “Heard you talking about Sam, what’s so interesting?” The boys all went quiet abruptly, Dean’s jaw ticked. “Oh, uh, nothing, just talking.”

“Good.” Dean walked back over to his table, one more joke and Dean wouldn’t hold himself back. Dean’s hands were fisted by his sides, he couldn’t completely understand why, he only knew that he didn’t like the idea of Sam with that bitch. He sat seething in his chair, every time he thought about it he knew he should be happy for his brother, but he was anything but.

Sam  
Sam had just been released for recess when Maddison took his hand, he jumped a little at the contact, he didn’t know why she had asked him out, all he knew was that she was pretty and was actually really nice to him. He followed her without protest, she was giggling slightly, he could feel the smile stretching his own face. Sam stumbled along behind her, trying to keep up, she slowed when they got behind the school, his heart was beating hard in his chest as she leaned in. 

He closed his eyes for a split second, he had never been kissed before. Just before their lips were about to touch Sam felt pain, hands grabbed him and threw him back into the school wall, his eyes snapped open as he felt the wind being knocked out of him. Sam gasped, coughing, a fist connected with his face and he fell to the ground. He raised his eyes to Maddison, pleading with her to stop them, she was laughing. 

Sam couldn’t think, two of the boys around him held him down on the grass. The tallest of the boys walked forward, holding something in his hand, Sam broke from his stupor, he thrashed in their hands, kicking out at anything he could reach, panic filled his brain as he opened his mouth in a silent scream. Tears filled his eyes as he writhed on the ground, his heart was beating so hard it hurt.

\---

Dean  
Dean felt the hairs on the back of his neck prickle, he lifted his eyes from the lunch tray in front of him. Nothing was out of place in the room but he still felt uneasy, he returned to his food as the guys around him continued yelling about some video game or something. The kids around his suddenly hushed, Dean’s head shot up. In the main entrance to the room was a small boy. Sam stepped through the door, his hands twisting in his ripped shirt, Dean could see the shudders running through his body from where he sat. 

Dean stood slowly, then he broke out in a run, he stopped just in front of the trembling figure. “Sammy?” Sam looked up into Dean’s eyes, a racking sob tore from his body. He ran the last few paces into Dean’s arms, tears and blood soaked into Dean’s shirt. Sam couldn’t stop the waves of shudders from overpowering him, he clung to Dean, shame and fear coursing through him. Dean was frozen in place holding the quaking boy in his arms, then he wasn’t. 

He picked up Sam in his arms and carried him out into the hall, whispers of the kids behind them dissipated. Dean set Sam down on the cold floor, red was seeping into his vision as he ran his hands over Sam, every time Sam hissed in pain Dean’s vision turned that much more. The boy was shaking, gasping for air, his eyes flying around, fear started to fill Dean, “Sam, Sammy come on, just breath with me okay? Big breaths, you gotta breath man.” Dean’s eyes were flying over Sam, his shirt was torn down to his chest and bruises were littering his body, one of Dean’s hands reached up to run through Sam’s hair, he froze. 

He raised his eyes to the top of Sam’s head for the first time, Sam’s tears had begun to subside but as the look of horror and rage washed over Dean’s face he started to cry again. “Who did this?” Dean’s voice was deadly, Sam just looked up at him, he pulled his knees into his chest, sobbing. Dean reached forward and pulled Sam into his arms, Sam wrapped his arms around Dean’s neck, his chest spasming. 

“It’s okay Sammy, I got you, I got you, you’re okay Sammy.” Dean’s voice broke as Sam’s arms wrapped even tighter around him. Dean’s head was whirling, rage and revulsion filled him, when he finds out who hurt his brother, he growled. The fifteen year old stayed curled around Sam, his hand brushing through the spikes of hair that still remained from what was shorn off. 

When the teachers eventually came he refused to let go of Sam, he picked him up once more and carried him to the nurse. Dean caught the gasp she let out when she saw the state of Sam’s face. Sam was now reduced to hiccups, his red puffy eyes locked on Dean’s, Sam mouthed to him, his lips wavering, I’m Sorry, more tears leaked from his stinging eyes. “It’s not your fault Sammy, don’t you think that.” Dean set Sam down on a bench and ran his hands through his hair, fire was burning in him. No one, no one was allowed to touch Sam, no one was allowed to make him feel like he was, no one was allowed to fucking hurt him! Dean spun and drove his fist through on of the cabinets. Pain burst through his hand, “Son of a bitch!”

“Dean, I need you to calm down, now.” Dean turned, the nurse was looking at him, her hard gaze only made him more angry, he looked down at Sam, his eyes were cast down, tremors rocking his body. Dean crouched down next to him, gently running his hand over his little brother's mangled hair. The place where the soft locks had been was a mess of shorn off hair, uneven patches stuck up all over his head. “Dean, I need to examine your brother, I need you to leave.”

“I’m staying.”

“Dean,” She warned.

“I’m. Staying.” He growled.

“Dean! I need to examine Sam and you can not be in the room!” Dean looked softly at Sam, “Sammy, who did this? You gotta tell me, here,” He pushed a piece of paper and a pencil into Sam’s shaking hand. When the pad was handed back to him it was hard to make out the writing due to the trembling of Sam’s arm, but he understood it. “Sam, you need to be honest, are you okay here? I need to take care of something but that can wait, I can stay with you if you want me to.” 

The nurse began to object but the fire in Dean’s eyes warned here. Sam shook his head, he pointed to the door, “You’re okay here by yourself?” Sam nodded, “Okay, I’ll be back before you know it.” Sam nodded, and Dean walked towards the door, he didn’t like leaving Sam alone but someone had to learn that they don’t fuck with his kid. Every step he took down the narrow hallway only made him angrier, he knew that Maddison bitch was a bad idea, his green eyes bore into everything he saw, blaming the white painted walls for his brother’s pain. 

He threw open the doors and stormed outside, casting his eyes about for the bastards who thought they could get away with hurting a fucking eleven year old. He recognized Maddison immediately, she was laughing with a group of guys that had to be dean’s age or older. He walked over to them, listening, “...dumb ass Winchester.” Dean didn’t wait to hear more, instead took the last steps over and spoke, “That’s my little brother, dickhead.” 

As the biggest guy turned he threw his fist into his jaw, sending him stumbling backwards, his vision darkened as the others sprung at him, his fists connected again and again. His brain shut down, he couldn’t think. When his eyes grew back to normal, the three guys were on the ground bleeding and he was screaming at them, “HE’S A FUCKING KID! You stay the hell away from him!” He stepped back, breathing hard, his knuckles were covered in blood, he couldn’t tell if it was his or theirs. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Maddison running towards him with a teacher in tow. He turned and walked back inside the school while they were busy with the boys on the ground. He burst into the nurse’s office, “Come on Sammy, we gotta go.”

Sam  
He gasped at the sight of his big brother, his hands were coated in red and his eyes were wild. Dean’s voice was raspy as he came towards him. Sam had calmed slightly and he stood, walking to Dean and taking his bloody hand in his own. They walked quickly out of the school doors and ran the rest of the way to their motel. Blood dripping between them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for putting a past scene in at such a stressful time but I felt it was appropriate to mention just HOW important Sam's hair is.


	8. Ownership

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With no new leads Sam looks for help in an unexpected place, Dean doesn't like it. Oh, and they have their first kiss!

Sam  
Sam was panicking. He had hoisted Dean onto their bed and rolled him onto his side so he wouldn’t choke on the foam bubbling from his lips. Taking out his phone with shaking hands he began to write an email, “Bobby, Dean’s sick, I don’t know what’s wrong with him, he started seizing and he’s coughing up foam. What’s happening? Is it a spell? Before there was something in our room, he said his name was Gabriel and he glowed and had wings, did he curse Dean? Please get back to me, I don’t know what to do.” His big brother was still shaking, his eyes rolled back in his head. Sam was scared, he didn’t know how to help, _please, oh god don’t let him die, he can’t die, I can’t live without him, I love him._

His phone vibrated, he answered immediately, “Sam? Listen to me, you need to check everywhere, see if there’s any hex bags in the room, if there is, burn it. That thing in the room, did the eyes glow? Tap once for yes twice for no.” Sam tapped the phone once as he searched the room frantically. Nothing! There wasn’t a damn thing there. “Balls! You got an angel on your ass boy. Did you find anything?” Sam tapped twice. 

“Alright, I’m calling John, I’ll be there as soon as I can.” When the line went dead Sam gasped in a shaky breath, running his hands through his hair, “S-Sammy? I-ah!” Dean was cut off by a sharp cry, he twisted, curling in on himself as he groaned. The foaming seemed to have stopped and Sam crawled up beside him on the bed, holding onto his brother, just trying to somehow take his pain. Dean whimpered, the sound sliced through Sam like steel, doing the only thing he could think of he leaned down.

Dean  
The spasms stopped. For a split second he relaxed as his baby brother’s lips brushed against his, it was the gentlest touch he had ever felt and yet it ignited every nerve in his body, setting him aflame. Sam must’ve noticed that Dean had stilled because he drew back, a fearful look on his face, Dean surged up, slanting his lips against Sam’s, every apology and unsaid word revealed in that kiss. Just as Sam gained confidence another wave of agony crashed over Dean and he recoiled, hissing. 

“What’s happening Sammy? Oh god, it hurts.” Dean’s voice cracked and he buried his face in his brother’s neck, fighting tears. He felt the fifteen year old shaking and he prayed, prayed to every possible god that Sam wouldn’t see him die, for something, anything to save him, because Sam couldn’t survive watching him die. All Dean could do is sit in his brother’s arms and hope that whatever was happening to him ended, by this time tears were running down both boys faces as they held onto each other, gripping the one thing in life that mattered.

\---

Sam  
Everything had stopped. For that split second Sam had helped. Even now when Dean had managed to fall into a fitful sleep, jerking just minutely in his blankets, Sam touched his lips, he had kissed his brother. His brother had kissed him back. The thing that Sam had been literally dreaming of for years had just happened. Sam jumped violently as someone pounded on the door, taking in a gulp of air to steady his breathing he got up from the bed and moved to open the door. Sam had never been so happy to see Bobby in his life. “How’re you doing Sam? Is that brother of yours alright?” 

Sam nodded and gestured for Bobby to enter. Throughout his life Bobby Singer had been the closest thing to a father he had. The man taught him to throw a football and had even helped him with his homework. If anyone could help Dean it was him. “Have you boys been messing around with witches or anything like that lately?” Sam shook his head as Bobby looked around the room, confirming that there were no hex bags anywhere. 

“The Angel, did he touch Dean? Send anything at him?” Sam nodded, guilt was gnawing at him, he had brought Gabriel back to the motel, he had trusted him and now his brother might die because of Sam’s stupidity. Bobby walked over to the bed and shook Dean lightly, “Come on boy, get up.” Dean opened his eyes blearily and coughed, “Bobby? What’re you doing here?” His voice was strained and Sam could tell he was still hurting, “Your brother emailed me worried sick, tell me what happened.” Dean did, every now and then a burst of pain would silence him but he told Bobby about his anger, his rapidly changing emotions, the fight with Sam, coming back to find Gabriel with Sam and getting angry. He left out the kiss. 

By the end of it Bobby was shaking his head, “That angel is bad news but he’s not what caused this, there’s no sign of witch crap either, you two stay put, I’m gonna go do some research and see what I can find. Try and get some more rest Dean.” As Bobby walked to the door he stopped, “Don’t worry Sam, your brother will be back to his pain in the ass self in no time.” Sam nodded and closed the door, walking back to the large bed and sitting on the corner, he rested his face in his hands, _What’s happening to us?_ “Sammy?” He looked at the older boy, “Come here baby brother.” 

Sam crawled up into Dean’s arms, nestling his head against his brother’s chest, breathing in the smell of spices and wood smoke, letting it curl around him, clearing his mind. Dean seemed to be just be feeling a dull ache, all Sam wanted to do was take his mind off of it, he smiled slightly to himself as he slowed his breathing, pretending to fall asleep. After a few minutes he shuffled, moving his hand to rest on the hem of the older man’s shirt, acting like he was still asleep he moved his hand up, under Dean’s shirt. He heard a sharp gasp of breath as Sam subtly dragged his nails against his brother’s skin. He stilled then, gaging Dean’s reaction, the shallow breathing coming from above him told him all he needed to know. Shifting closer to Dean he pressed his small frame against Dean’s and sighed, ghosting his breath against the neck of the man lying next to him. 

 

Dean  
The little fucker. His brother was not asleep. Ignoring the heat growing in his abdomen he lay still, ever since he was sixteen he had known that the love he had for his brother was not natural, (Author: You could say it was… Supernatural) because of who they were he had hidden it, he had practically raised the kid and whatever he was feeling, he wouldn’t let it show, now he waited, he wanted to see where Sam would take this. When Sam had kissed him it was like every wish, every hope that maybe his brother felt something too, had been confirmed. Feeling Sam’s hands on him was getting to be too much, everywhere he touched light on fire and made Dean want something more. 

“Sammy, we should talk about this.” The body beside him tensed and Dean cursed his choice of words, “I don’t mean like that, you know I don’t, Sam… I’m sorry for what I said at the restaurant.” He waited, holding his breath. Only once his brother had met his eyes did he continue. “Anyway, I just mean, you’re my little brother and I don’t want to, I can’t, take advantage of you.” Sam rolled his eyes and grabbed the pad of paper and pen on the beside table, _Dean, you are an idiot, you’re not taking advantage of me, I’ve liked you since I was eleven, please, just let us be us._ Dean smiled, “Sure sweetheart.” 

\---

Since Sam had kissed him a week ago Dean hadn’t gotten any better, Bobby hadn’t found anything yet as to what was wrong with him. Each time the pain hit it would last longer, be more intense. When he wasn’t doubled over his emotions were going haywire, it was like everything he felt was multiplied ten fold. He refused to leave the motel anymore because the last time he tried he had punched a man for bumping into Sam. 

He was getting even less sleep than the average hunter got, which was about one fourth of the average person’s. Even now when the pain had subsided he was not released from the clutches of whatever was holding him, Bobby had just left again, looking frustrated and more hopeless than Dean had ever seen him. On impulse he picked up the cheap phone Sam had bought him and started to type.

Sam  
The phone buzzing in his pocket snapped him from his sleep deprived state. Dean had been falling asleep mid morning and waking thrashing with pain, Sam hadn’t gotten a decent night’s sleep in over a week. Pulling the device out and in front of his eyes he squinted, finding it hard to read on the tiny screen. 

_Where are you?_  
Read

_The library_  
Sent

_You find anything?_  
Read

_Not yet, I have an idea, you won’t like it_  
Sent

_What?_  
Read

_Gabriel, if he really is an Angel maybe he can help, they do good things right?_  
Sent

_No. Sam, don’t. He’s dangerous._  
Read

_He won’t hurt me, he didn’t before did he?_  
Sent

_I don’t like the way he looks at you._  
Read

_If he can help you then it’s not a choice_  
Sent

_Fine. Go to your boyfriend, don’t blame me if he kills you._  
Read

Sam blinked. Narrowing his eyes at the text he shut the phone and jammed it back into his pocket. Closing his eyelids he blocked out the light, he inhaled shakily, not sure how to do this. _I don’t know if I’m doing this right or if you could even hear me if I was but I have to try. Gabriel, if you’re out there, I need your help, Dean, he’s in trouble. It’s bad, I don’t know what’s wrong with him. Please, if you do care about us humans at all, you have to save him, he’s a hero. He’s my hero. Just help me ple--_

“Sam.” He whirled around, hands up, fist already moving in a punch. He whimpered in pain as his hand hit bones as hard as steel. “Wow, I came out to have a good time and I’m honestly feeling so attacked right now.” A cocky grin spread over his face, which immediately put a scowl on Sam’s. “Aw, come on Sammy, don’t be like that.” 

_Only Dean get’s to call me that._

“Really? He’s controlling your nicknames now too?” The shorter man laughed at the shocked expression on Sam’s face, “The mind reading thing doesn’t just apply when you pray you know.” 

_What’s wrong with Dean?_

“I don’t know, I’m not allowed to interfere with him.” 

_Why not?!_

“No need to get angry. I don’t make the rules, each angel is assigned to one human, not every person get’s one, just those that will make an impact on your world. We are not allowed to interfere with those that are not ours, therefore I can not help your brother.” 

_And yet you can help me._

“Yes, you are mine.” 

_Like hell I am! I’m not anyone’s bitch._ Sam had never thought so furiously in his life, “I never said you were Samantha.” 

_Dick._

“Why yes, you’re quite right, Dean isn’t so lucky though, his angel is such a bore, even his trench coat is dull.” 

_Look, I don’t give a shit about your messed up ownership kink. Can you help Dean or not?_

“I never said it was a kink, though I wouldn’t say no if you asked…” Sam bristled, anger flooding up in him, “Alright, alright, I can summon someone who can help your brother, but you have to do something for me in return.” 

_Fine. I don’t care. Just help him._

“Okay, I’ll put the message through to my baby bro to help out your big bro. Catch you later Sam.” The space previously occupied was now empty, leaving behind just the flap of wings and Sam’s grimace. Leaving the empty library he walked outside, preparing himself to recount all of what had happened to Dean he began the walk through the outskirts of Washington D.C., the light breeze touched his cheek and he smiled. Shutting his eyes and letting his feet carry him blindly along the small sidewalk, deserted by people. Everything was peaceful but a little part of his brain was nagging at him, _What does Gabriel want?_


	9. Wincest... Interrupted

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam discovers what the Angels will ask of him. He and Dean become closer. A new character enters.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been a while I know, I'm not even going to make an excuse, I am just incredibly lazy. However I know at least know what I want the ending to be so it should move along fairly quickly now. I hope you like it, read on, fair gentle lads and ladies!

Sam  
He felt sick. Every once of his being telling him to stop, that this was not what Dean would want him to do but he couldn’t help it. Gabriel was talking to him, and he was listening. The Archangel was not in sight but Sam could hear him, hear the light tone of his voice describing what was to come. Describing what he was to do. The angel had been vague before but now he was leaving no detail untold. 

There was a battle, a battle that had been spoken of for centuries. One that would put an end to either the light or the dark. As the voice carried on Sam’s steps faltered slightly, never letting up the story continued. Two angels, Michael and Lucifer, were to clash together. Heaven had been waiting for the vessels, the only mortals that would be able to hold the power of such Archangels. Sam sat. He was a teenager still, how could he be expected of this? He was supposed to be a kid, to go to college and quit hunting, to heal his brother and be able to get away from their father. Not this. 

“I’m sorry, Sam.” For once Gabriels voice was soft, despite being arrogant, irritating and rude, Sam was beginning to view the angel as a friend. That realm was foreign to him, he had never really had friends, all he ever had was Dean. The time he tried he ended up with shorn hair and a bloodied brother. But of course that’s who Dean was, as stubborn as an iceberg greeted by the sun when it came to expressing emotion, but would not hesitate to fight anyone at any time. Sam missed him. Dean was still there but lately he was even more fight over feelings than usual. For god's sake they had kissed! And nothing had been said on the subject since. 

Pulling himself from thought Sam reevaluated the information he had just received. He was Lucifer’s vessel. He had a brother named Adam who was Michael’s vessel. One of them would die. Sam began to laugh. It was ludicrous, Michael and Lucifer in a great battle to the death. A month ago he didn’t even know angels were real. He started to shake, lord, why was he so fucking weak? Turning around quickly he felt his intestines spasm and he vomited into the grass. 

Sam’s nerves were going haywire and his anxiety, which had never exactly been low, was skyrocketing. He believed the angels, he knew that they were good and pure and would fight for what is right. That didn’t make what they were asking of him any less terrifying. A hand touched him and Sam jumped, ready to fight. _“Relax Sasquatch.”_ Gabriel’s voice, still in his head, had humor in it, thinly veiling the doubt. 

Sam allowed himself to be pulled to his feet, Gabriel touched two fingers to his forehead, immediately Sam felt better, if a bit drunk. Well, maybe more than a bit, as he walked he leaned back on what he thought was the shorter mans arm. Only after five minutes did it dawn on him that arms weren’t fluffy. Looking back he started to giggle, if he had not just been calmed (maybe a bit too much) by an angel he would have been ashamed of that sound, but in the state he was in he did not care. The wing was supporting him and that’s all he could ask for, he would have surely fallen down otherwise. 

The effect of being calmed began to wear off the longer they walked, eventually he was on his own feet, simply treading in silence. The only thought in his head: _Don’t tell Dean._ If his brother knew that Sam was to be the meat suit of the devil he would stop Sam from saying yes, and then Dean would not be healed and worse yet, who knew what catastrophes not allowing the fight between Michael and Lucifer would bring upon the world. As they rounded the corner to the motel Gabriel vanished, leaving not a word behind, just a warm feeling that stuck in Sam’s mind. Pushing his key into the hole he opened the door, not expecting the hug that greeted him. He did not, however, pull away as his brother shut the door and pulled him farther into the room, still not letting him go. Sam wrapped his arms around Dean’s back, burying his head in the man’s chest.

 

Dean  
Shame was not an obscure reality. Shame at the bruises on his body, shame at failing a test, shame when he dropped out of school all together, but again and again the most intense shame was felt at letting his brother down. All his life he had failed Sam, the boy had found out that the monsters under his bed were not just in his head through him, because of Dean, Sam had had to learn how to treat broken bones and cuts at the age of five and now Sam was frightened, and this time Dean couldn’t be the one to protect his baby brother. 

By this point they had pretty much given up on the case and even Bobby couldn’t find any demon, ghost, witch or anything that could have caused what was happening to him. He supposed that the only good thing at this moment is that since Bobby had contacted John he had not shown up at the motel and they hadn’t heard a word back. Dean’s pain was less frequent now, only coming in short, random bursts. However his emotions and disorientation was heightened. 

His head hurt from the constant anger and possessiveness towards Sam, no matter what he did, he couldn’t stop feeling like his brother was leaving him, like he didn’t want Dean and he was going behind his back. Dean knew that it was not Sam that was gone, something had changed in Dean, whoever had cursed him had taken the small reasonable part in his brain, the part that took even a fraction of a second to think before acting. He felt shame now, above the fear and anger he felt shame. He was hurting Sam and distracting Bobby and all the while more people could be dying because he wasn’t out there doing his job. 

Holding Sam was the only time he felt sane, lost in the hazelnut and vanilla smell and the weight of the kids head on his chest. Dean knew that someday soon his brother would be taller than him, he had jokingly told Sam that the day that happened he would cut off the kid’s feet. He couldn’t help the feeling of love that was creeping up on him, at the same time though he felt confused, Sam had kissed him. He had kissed Sam. And yet they hadn’t brought it up, Dean loved Sam in more ways than a brother should, that had never been doubted, but now that it was in the open he had no idea what to do. 

He had never planned this far before and never in these circumstances. Eventually he released Sam, “I’m sorry, you know I am.” Dean still felt guilty about his text to his brother, “I just don’t trust them, where the hell were the angels when mom died? I prayed Sammy, every night for years, I asked for them to let you speak, to make Dad stop drinking, for anything. Do you know how much I ever got in return?” Of course, Sam shook his head, “Nothing Sam. Nothing for you, nothing for me. And now they just show up and want to help? I just don’t buy it, but I trust you Sam, and if you want their help so be it, but I don’t want you hurt.” Sam nodded with his green eyes downcast. 

Dean knew he understood, he also knew that his brother had more faith in goodness than he ever would, so of course he trusted the angels, because they are good right? Well, Dean wasn’t so sure. As the silence began to grow “Smoke on the Water” began to play. Dean reached into the pocket of his jeans and pulled out his phone, putting it on speaker, “Did you find anything?”

“No, I’m sorry boys, as far as I can tell no supernatural thing is causing this.”

“You’re telling me I’m just sick?”

“I don’t know what to tell you, I’ll keep looking but a friend of mine needs my help, I’m leaving tomorrow. I promise we’ll figure this out.” Running a frustrated hand through his hair Dean nodded, “Do what you gotta do, Sam and I’ll stay put, see if we can find anything. Bye Bobby.” With a click the line went dead and Dean sat. “God, I don’t like this Sam, not knowing what they want from you, but I can’t take staying this way. Not if I could hurt you.” Sam smiled softly, it was a sad smile, as though he was remembering a joke a loved one had told him before they had died. Dean knew why, just weeks ago the idea of Dean hurting his brother was ludicrous, now, neither of them were so sure. 

The freckle faced man was silent, not allowing Sam to hear the thoughts that were pushing their way up. Dean did not know how but he felt a gaze upon him, not that of a human, of which he would have sensed immediately, but that of a being beyond his imagination. _I used to have faith. I used to think you angels actually gave a damn about us. So thank you for clearing that up. You’ve done nothing for me, for my brother, you gave us this, this hellhole of hunt after hunt and beating after beating. Even now, you promise Sam that you will save me, I know that won’t come free. But, I swear to God, if anything happens to him I_ will _raise hell… all the way to heaven._

Little did he know that his promise would soon be kept. Standing, Dean decided to just go with the surge of possessiveness that came over him. He could feel the gasp of breath and the shiver that surged through the fifteen year old. The kiss was deep and fierce. Dean threaded his hand through Sam’s hair, pulling lightly. The sound that uttered from Sam’s lips was, well, it would make a priest sworn to abstinence go back on his word in a second. Dean’s other hand was around his brother’s waist, pulling him closer and playing with the hem of the brunettes shirt. “Hello Dean.” 

“Jesus Christ!” Dean jumped so high his toes must’ve been at Sam’s head. “No… I’m Castiel.”


	10. His Drug of Choice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Someone should have taught Sammy not to take drinks from strangers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Updating is a mess, I'm not even going to try and promise another one very soon but I'll try, I hope you guys like this one, I tried to make it longer because of the wait.

Sam  
Castiel’s eyes were locked on Dean while Sam’s were on the floor. He could see the redness rising to his cheeks, he was now hyper aware of Dean’s hand still on his waist. Sam drew away, frightened of what the angel might do if he realized what the brother’s close proximity meant. 

Dean looked down at him with a question in his eyes, Sam felt shame flood him, he didn’t want to have to hide this. Dean’s voice was unusually steady, when talking to Gabriel he was not nearly so calm. “Ever heard of knocking?” 

“I’ve heard of it, yes…” Despite himself, Sam smiled, relieved. The dark haired man was not looking at their closeness. Without warning he stepped forward, touching Dean’s forehead with two fingers, less than a second later Dean dropped to the floor. Sam fell with him, supporting his weight. He shook his brother fiercely, he looked up at the angel, a threatening look on his face. 

The shorter man’s brows were furrowed, “Dean has no magical infection whatsoever. It’s natural whatever it is, this makes it more complicated.” Furious, Sam thinks as hard as he can at Castiel, _What the hell do you mean “more complicated?” Fix him! You’re an angel damn it!_ The reproachful look the angel gave him made him want to either laugh or punch something, he couldn’t decide. “It’s a natural element, I can heal those cursed or bewitched because the action of bewitching in unnatural, however if Dean was meant to have gotten this illness than there a process that must be followed to undo it.” 

Sam let his head fall into his hands, it was all getting to be too much for him, they had never asked for any of this, he just wanted a normal, apple pie life, as Dean would say. _Fine. Just… what do you want me to do?_ The crushing weight of all that had happened in the past month made it so Sam no longer cared what he had to do, just so long as his brother would live. One of the most frustrating things was the fact that he and Dean had fina-fucking-lly admitted what they had been hiding for years and now, because of all of this bullshit, it was like nothing had ever happened between the two. The second they tried to start anything an angel would pop up or Bobby would call, Sam was sick of it. 

The flashing look of pity on Castiel’s face snapped him from his thoughts, the look was gone the instant it came. “I cannot explain what will happen in the end Sam, only that when we call upon you, you must be strong.” He pulled a small flask from his trench coat and handed it to Sam, “It will not be enough once you’ve had a taste and surely you will want to stop as much as you'll need more, but Dean’s life depends on you, if you hold up your end of our deal, each day I will heal your brother as much as I can.” 

Sam stopped himself from asking questions for he knew no answer would be given. _Okay._ A rustle and a flash was all he got in reply as the angel disappeared. Sam hid the vial, knowing what Dean’s reaction would be if he knew that Sam had made a deal that included downing whatever was inside of this glass tube. The older boy’s eyes fluttered open and he gave Sam a goofy smile, “I feel all warm.” Dean giggled and attempted to rise before falling back asleep like sleeping beauty on zzzquil. Hoisting him up with a grunt Sam dragged him to his bed, leaving him there once sure he was breathing normally and going into the bathroom. 

Upon closer inspection it was clear that whatever was inside the vial was thick, thicker than water and red, Sam knew from the sick feeling in his gut, that it was blood. He had to start this as soon as possible, whatever the angels wanted him to do couldn’t be accomplished without first getting stronger, whatever that meant, and this liquid was going to help him do that. He just wanted all of this to be over with. Looking into the mirror he opened the tube and, without taking time to think it through, downed the liquid in one. 

Sam’s eyes remained closed as he felt the cold slide down his throat as he swallowed. A cold sensation started to creep through him, freezing his veins and lighting him afire all at once. It got to be too much, the cold substance over stimulating everything, Sam could hear his brothers breathing in the other room, feel the slight draft he hadn’t noticed before. Shocked, he open his eyes. The yell that came from his throat was because… well, because Sam’s eyes were black. Not the dark caused by standing in a shadow, not a sliver of green or white remained. Sam couldn’t recognize himself. 

The tall boy stumbled back, trying desperately to get away from the image in the mirror, a cracking sound signified his head hitting a shelf and he groaned in pain, he opened his eyes once more and they were his own, no trace of the seeping blackness. Now that his panic and fear was trickling away he felt an odd sense of power, of control. It was what he imagined getting high was like just so much… better. He was up in the clouds, but he wasn’t being tossed about in the wind, he was flying. But then he fell. Sam was suddenly exhausted, the rush couldn’t have lasted more than ten minutes but he felt as though he had run five consecutive marathons. 

When he stepped back out of the bathroom Dean was still asleep, Sam’s eyes were downcast, he was doing this for his brother but at the same time felt like he was letting Dean down. Sam crawled under the sheets and closed his eyes, he wasn’t sad, that wasn’t the right word, he was just so spent that it felt like he had nothing left to give, what he wouldn’t give for none of this to have happened, for his mother to still be alive and Dean and him to have a normal life. That wasn’t an option. So he made do. 

He couldn’t put a point on the exact moment that he knew he was dreaming, it all seemed to fuzz together, he was lying in the motel room bed and then he was back at home in Kansas. Sam had had these dreams before, in a way they were the most reliable thing in his life apart from Dean, in that way he welcomed them, frightened to lose yet another piece of his childhood. This time it was different, he didn’t open his eyes to fire and heat and his father’s screams, everything was calm. 

His clock ticking on the wall and his crib cool and safe. Only one thing was out of place, a figure was standing over him, John? No, it was definitely a man but not one that his young eyes had seen before, two lights glowed from the man’s skull, horrified, Sam realized they were his eyes. Even in the dream Sam had thought, he could understand what was happening while being helpless to do anything. 

He watched as the figure held his wrist above Sam’s lips and felt a warm liquid touch his lips. He watched as his mother poked her tired head around the door to check in on him. God was she beautiful, Sam had seen her in the seldom seen pictures that Dean had saved but in person, well, in a dream, she was really his mother. And Sam watched as she realized what was happening and tried to save his insignificant life. He saw her be lifted to the ceiling and saw her stomach be sliced open. Because all Sam could do was watch. 

From there the dream carried on as it always did, terror cutting him, a heat so real that he tossed in his bed, his tiny form being handed to his brother. At this point Sam had dreamt this so many times that he no longer woke up crying, needing his brothers around him, instead he would lay still, forcing himself to regain his breathing and he would assess the dream, trying to figure out why, why it kept returning. So that’s what Sam did, though he ignored the second half, instead reliving the figure and his mother, making his mind replay the sound of his own mother’s screams so that he could know what her voice sounded like. 

With that, Sam did cry, he didn’t know what was happening, what he had drunk that made him feel the way he did, what the angels would ask of him, if Dean would be okay and if he would even still be alive to see it. Doing what he had not done in years, something he would never admit to in the daylight, Sam crept from his bed and into Dean’s, trying his hardest not to wake the rarely sleeping man. Like they had been doing it all their life, which of course, they had, Sam fit perfectly in the curve of Dean’s body and Dean’s hand wrapped around his brother to rest on his chest. A reassuring weight keeping him grounded. The boys slept, neither truly realizing how much they needed each other.

_\-- A Lifetime Ago --_   
_People underestimate the strength of a child. Dean, ever the brave soldier, was sitting still in his seat. Even at the age of seven his father’s orders outweighed all else. And Sam, the three year old that knew no loving embrace other than that of his brother, was fighting to reach him once more. That same child was hitting the chest of his father, scratching at any available skin in attempt to get to his brother. John’s exasperated eyes were on his youngest._

_He had called one of his contacts, a hunter that happened to be a tattoo artist as well. Just a week before, John had been on a case in Pittsburgh, a demon possessing families. Thus he found a symbol, one that would protect the wearer from being inhabited by a demon. John had ordered his son to sit in the chair and stay still, the man had provided little explanation as to what his friend was going to do. But the boy stayed and watched quietly as the tattooing needle was removed from its case, whispering only hushed words of reassurance to his little brother. It was only when the tip pierced the skin of the oldest that Sam began to struggle._

_It must’ve been the blood or the hot tears running down Dean’s face that sent Sam into a fit. It was pain different than any the blond had felt before, he had taken hits sure, many from his father to tell the truth. This, however, was a burning sensation, as if his chest was being lit on fire. It lasted too long and there was too much blood on the small boy’s chest. When it was done and the symbol was etched into his skin, John released his youngest son. Sam wobbled to his brother, crawling up onto the chair. He wrapped his chubby arms around Dean’s neck._

_As the eldest placed his hands on his baby brothers back, Sammy turned his head. His bright eyes looking straight into John’s, the man would never forget the utter disappointment in his son’s eyes. That look was seared into the memories of the man. Sam turned back to Dean and touched his brothers pale cheek. Just years later Sam got the same tattoo on his chest, Dean was furious at his father, he had been sent away while it happened, not knowing John’s intentions. Sam was just five, when Dean came back to a wailing Sam he had picked the boy up and refused to let John even see him for days. Those tattoo’s stayed with the boys, never fading or stretching, growing as they did._


End file.
